Get Well Soon, Kinch
by Atarah Derek
Summary: My response to two challenges. First, a response to a challenge to explain Baker's origins. Second, a multi-story response to the "Understudies" challenge. Also a personal challenge to myself to see if I can actually finish a multi-chapter story.


**Get Well Soon, Kinch**

**Part I of The Understudies**

**Summary:** Kinch comes down with a case of hepatitis that may be Hogan's ticket to helping get a defector out of Germany. My explanation for Kinch's disappearance during season 6. Inspired by M*A*S*H.

**Disclaimer: **Look, you've all been around long enough to know that I own nussing! Well, I do own Dr. Anselm Ursler. I got that name from behind the name (dot) com.

**Chapter 1: The Last Thing We Need**

"Mama Bear to Papa Bear. Come in, please, Papa Bear."

"This is Papa Bear. Go ahead, Mama Bear."

Kinch rubbed a hand over his face as he tried to focus on the information Mama Bear was transmitting. A German doctor had apparently decided to defect to the Allies rather than follow through on an order that didn't line up with his convictions. Now London was asking Hogan's team for help in getting him out. It was the third straight task they had taken on just that week, and the team's energy and patience were wearing thin. Kinch himself had only participated in pulling off one of the missions, and had stayed in camp to "mind the store" while the rest of the team had accomplished the other mission. He had only gotten six hours of sleep over the last three days. How much more must the rest of the team be feeling the fatigue?

The radio man finished writing down the message and signed off with the London contact. All he could do was pray that Goldilocks—the operation's command leader at the headquarters of London Intelligence—didn't also call with an assignment. They hadn't given Hogan's team anything to do since...last week, at least. Mama Bear and Goldilocks were supposed to keep close communication, but anything could and would happen in war time.

Kinch stood to head back upstairs. A wave of dizziness swept over him, and he reached out a hand to steady himself. He tried to shake it off, but there was no fooling himself.

_Great. Fine time to come down with something. The last thing we need around here is some kind of flu epidemic._ He made a mental note to talk to Hogan and Wilson, and decided that he would take some time for himself. As soon as this mission was over. And as long as no one needed the team's help again for a while. And provided that...

Kinch stopped his mental terms of agreement list before it could get too long and headed upstairs.

…................

Colonel Hogan was pouring himself some coffee when Kinch appeared at the tunnel entrance beneath the rigged bunk. Newkirk and Carter were playing cards, and most of the other barracks occupants were resting on their beds. LeBeau appeared to be asleep; he didn't even stir when the bunk beneath him snapped up to allow Kinch access to the ground level.

"Morning Kinch," Hogan greeted his second in command. "Coffee?"

"Sure, thanks, Colonel," Kinch said, taking the pot as it was held out to him. He scooped up a cup that looked relatively clean and filled it with the bitter-smelling black liquid. He took a sip and coughed. "Wow, that's strong today."

Hogan nodded. "We thought we might need it."

"You will, Colonel," Kinch said, handing Hogan the information he'd written down.

"What, another assignment?" Newkirk said. "That's the third one this week."

"Yeah, I mean, what are we, errand boys?" Carter complained.

Hogan waved them off. "We have our orders. There's a German doctor who wants to defect. Apparently some of the Nazis' demands don't comply with his Hippocratic Oath."

"Sounds serious, Colonel," Kinch said, rubbing his knuckles. An ache had settled into them, and the radio man found himself massaging his fingers, trying to relieve the pain. "Mama Bear didn't give me all the details, but whatever the krauts wanted this guy to do, it really struck a nerve with him. He had a shouting match with his CO that he's lucky didn't already land him in front of a firing squad."

"Army doctor?" Hogan asked.

"I guess so. From what I got, I guess he's worked with medical units at the front."

Hogan noticed the radio man pulling at his fingers. "You OK, Kinch?"

Kinch dropped his hands and stuck them in his pockets. "Yeah, I just...my hands feel...I don't know...arthritic, I guess."

"You know, you do look pretty tired," Carter offered.

"Yeah, so do you," Kinch countered.

"You're not coming down with something, are you?" Hogan asked, concern etched across his face.

"Well, now that you mention it, I haven't been feeling that great. But I think it's just the fatigue."

Hogan shook his head. "We'll have Wilson check you out just to make sure. We don't need some flu epidemic at a time like this."

"My thoughts exactly," Kinch murmured, a little frustrated with himself.

…............................

While Hogan gathered as much information as he could from the team's contacts regarding the new mission, Wilson gave Kinch a miniature physical. He seemed particularly concerned about the radio man's eyes and underneath his tongue. Finally the medic sat back.

"Well, I'm not a doctor, and even if I were, I don't have the equipment to run a blood test, but you're showing all the symptoms of hepatitis."

Kinch shot him a look of surprise. "Hepatitis? Where could I have picked that up?"

Wilson shrugged. "Any number of places. On your last mission, or from a transient prisoner. Come to think of it, that captain who passed through here had some of the same symptoms you did; jaundiced eyes, arthritic hands..." the medic paused. "Did you have any contact with him?"

"Yeah, I distracted him while the guys ran a routine check on him. He came up clean."

"Well, I suspect he wouldn't have come up clean in a hepatitis check. Did you share any dishes such as coffee cups with him?"

The radio man shrugged. "Well, now that I think about it, he and I did have some of LeBeau's coffee. Or, more accurately, he gave me his coffee after a couple sips, deciding that he didn't want it." Kinch chuckled. "Maybe he is a saboteur after all."

"Germ warfare," Wilson nodded. "Just the kind we don't need. I'll have Colonel Hogan put in a request for a real diagnosis by a real doctor. Meanwhile, I'm gonna have to quarantine you from the rest of the camp."

Kinch's face fell. Suddenly he looked up and snapped his fingers. "Hey, that's it!"

"What?"

"I know just the doctor to confirm whether or not I have hepatitis." With that, Kinch gave Wilson the rundown on the team's next assignment. Wilson smiled.

"Not a bad idea, provided of course this guy doesn't have the Gestapo on his tail. I'll talk to Hogan."

…..........................

"I gotta say, Kinch came up with a great plan," Hogan said when Wilson had updated him on his suspicions and presented his request. "I'll go to work on Klink today."

"In the meantime, Colonel, I need to keep Kinch isolated in the infirmary until we can be sure he's not contagious," Wilson added before Hogan could slip out the door.

"How long will that be?"

The medic shrugged. "I've seen how hepatitis can affect a whole camp. After a week or so, the patient is no longer contagious, but it could take weeks for him to recover enough strength to resume his work. Kinch could be out of commission for a month—maybe more, depending on how long it takes to recover from this particular strain."

Hogan rapped a fist on the door jam of his quarters as he pondered the situation. "Who'll take over for Kinch? Any one of us can operate the radio well enough to get an occasional message through, but Kinch knows the codes and equipment better than any of us."

"Wasn't there anyone else who came in with Kinch who could do the job?"

Hogan thought for a moment. "There's Baker. He was one of the men brought in with Kinch. They seemed pretty close."

"Maybe Kinch taught him a few things."

"One can but hope." Hogan rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Alright, thanks for the update, Sergeant. Keep an eye on Kinch and let us know if there's anything else we can do."

"Well there is one thing I should warn you about, Colonel," Wilson said. "If Kinch does have hepatitis, everyone who was exposed to him in the last few days—including allied and enemy officers—will have to receive an inoculation."

"What's that mean exactly?"

Wilson grinned. "That means someone'll have to jab a hypodermic full of gamma globulin in your tuchus...sir."

Hogan groaned. "Terrific."

Wilson chuckled.


End file.
